


Fix You

by annie0611



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: Depression, F/M, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-07
Updated: 2017-12-07
Packaged: 2019-02-11 21:49:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12944676
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/annie0611/pseuds/annie0611
Summary: Betty Cooper comes back to Riverdale after an incident forces her to drop out of college before graduation. Now, she has to pick up her shattered pieces and start over. Betty didn't know Jughead very well in high school, but when she picks up a job at Pop's diner, the two become close and lean on each other as they try to figure out their lives.





	Fix You

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fan fic I've written in YEARS. Please bare with me, but all comments are welcome and encouraged. Let me know what you think. 
> 
> Enjoy!! 
> 
>  
> 
> (By the way, this is a sloooow burn.... be patient!)

            Betty Cooper. A name that four years ago meant the perfect girl next door. Betty Cooper had her life perfectly tied up, just like the iconic pony tail she sported for most of her existence. Betty Cooper was nice, plain, and dependable. Betty Cooper pleased her parents and her friends. But Betty Cooper didn’t feel like Betty Cooper anymore.

            In the nearly four years since she left Riverdale, Betty Cooper’s life fell apart, and now she was back in her old town, a mere ghost of the girl she left behind.

            She saw it in her parents’ eyes when they picked her up from Two Rivers Psychiatric Hospital. Things were different now- there was no lecture, no pressure- just silence. Alice Cooper always had a remark to make or a sharp criticism to give, but in this car, she had no words to give Betty, just that look.

            In the month since Betty landed herself in Two Rivers, she had received that look too many times to count **.** It was usually accompanied with hushed whispers from doctors, therapists, and psychiatrists. The look made her uncomfortable. It had ‘Poor Betty’ written all over it. In her group sessions, the therapist would listen attentively to Betty, usually jotting down notes. Every now and then, when Betty would say something especially personal, she would look up from her notepad and the look would be there, burning into Betty’s mind. The look was practically identical on every person who threw it Betty’s way: wide, worried eyes, a furrowed brow line and an occasional grimace. Since the incident, Betty felt more isolated than ever and that look only made things worse. Every time she saw it, it was a confirmation that nobody understood her.

            Betty just wanted to get home and try to gain some normalcy back into her life. She didn’t want pity and she didn’t want to be known as the girl who had to go to a psych hospital. Knowing Riverdale though, the whole town had probably been talking about what had happened to Betty anyways. All she could do now was put her head down and try to act like it never happened.

            When her parents pulled into the driveway, Betty felt nostalgic. The picket fence was just as white as she remembered, and the bushes that formed a pathway to the front door were trimmed neatly. The house gave an illusion that Alice Cooper fought hard to maintain. A perfect house for a seemingly perfect family.

            Betty had always been bitter about her mother’s demands and harsh words growing up, but now she understood Alice’s desire for order and control. Though she hated to admit it, Betty was a lot like her mother.

            Inside the house, things were exactly as they were when Betty left. It smelled of fresh linen and coffee. The couch that Betty spent hours studying on was fluffed and lined with four spotlessly matching pillows. The carpet, as always, was vacuumed in straight lines. The house that used to suffocate Betty now invited her in with warmth and familiarity. If Betty closed her eyes, she could almost imagine that she was back in her senior year of high school solving mysteries about the school lunches for the Blue and Gold newspaper while sipping on Pop’s famous milkshakes with her best friend Archie Andrews.

            “Betty?” Alice’s voice was soft, unlike her normal commanding tone.

             Betty snapped to attention, realizing that she probably zoned off.

            “I made your bed up this morning. You’re probably tired after the long drive,” her mother’s words were careful as if they were tiptoeing around Betty.

             The drive from Greendale to Riverdale was only 45 minutes, though today it did feel particularly long. Her mother’s nurturing attitude was alien towards Betty, but the idea of sleeping in her own bed sounded appealing.

            “The doctor said you would probably be tired as you adjusted to your new medication. There is also lavender tea in the kitchen, and I picked out some classical music that I thought might help you relax.”

            “Thanks mom. I think I will go lay down for a bit.”

             Alice nodded encouragingly as Hal, Betty’s father, placed his hand on Alice’s shoulder. The image of loving, supportive parents. Betty wondered how long she had before they fell into their old routines. They were so obviously putting on a show for her, trying to prove themselves as the Best Parents of the Year.

             Betty made her way to the end of the hallway and stared at the door leading into her childhood room. She knew when she stepped in everything would be exactly the same just like the rest of the house. She wasn’t sure how it was possible for everything to remain in place when her entire world had crashed and burned just a month ago. Betty wasn’t the same eager, wide-eyed girl that left her small town for hopes of something bigger, and now it felt wrong for everything to remain so static.

             Hesitantly, Betty opened the door and allowed herself to take in the sight of her old room: A bed skillfully made, books neatly stacked atop her desk, pictures of her old life strung carefully across her mirror. Sweaters she hadn’t taken to college were still folded on top of her dresser, as if tomorrow morning she would pick one to wear, pull her hair back, and run downstairs to meet Archie before walking to school. Her breath hitched in her throat as she felt the familiar cold sweat of panic seep over her. Her freshly healed scars itched at her palms. Betty felt herself go weak in the knees, but she collected her thoughts and breathed in and out three times just like her therapist taught her to do. Slowly, the panic resided, and she could unclench her hands before her nails dug too deep.

            Exhausted from the day, Betty climbed into her bed and allowed herself to rest, trying not to think of the anxieties tomorrow would likely bring.

***

_Betty stared at the big red letter covering the essay she had slaved over. A “C-minus”. Betty hadn’t received such a low score in her entire academic career, and she certainly never dreamed her first low mark would come from a journalism class. That was her desired profession after all, and she had always been praised for her writings. She knew it was silly to stress over a grade on one essay, but Betty couldn’t help herself. Over the past three weeks, Betty had poured everything she had into this assignment. She couldn’t remember the last time she slept more than three or four hours in a night. It was discouraging that all her hard work didn’t pay off._

_A knock on her door interrupted her, and then a friendly face barged into her dorm room without missing a beat._

_“Betty Cooper, I have the most_ amazing _news,” Kevin Keller beamed, “We have just been invited to a party. And not just_ any _party, but the party of one Chuck Clayton.”_

_“Kev, I don’t know. I just got this paper back and—”_

_Kevin stopped her before she could say more, “Betty. No. You spend way too much time stressing about—well—everything. You need this party._ I _need this party.”_

_She bit her lip. She had been stressed lately, but partying didn’t seem like the solution and it certainly wouldn’t help her score better on her next assignment._

_Kevin sensed her hesitation and repeated himself as if she didn’t get it, “I_ need _this party. Do you understand? Drinks, dancing and boys. The perfect trifecta in curing a broken heart or in your case… a bad grade._

_And did I mention this is Chuck Clayton’s party? Betty, you have been, like, totally crushing on Chuck since freshman year.”_

_Kevin made a compelling argument. Chuck Clayton was the head editor of the university’s paper and president of the Journalism ship. He was a senior, absolutely gorgeous and had already been promised a position at a local news station when he graduated._

_Kevin had become one of her best friends quickly at university. They met in a freshman seminar class and hit it off right away, swapping eye rolls and sighs as their 80-year-old professor taught them how to use the library’s databases. While they were very different, she appreciated his spunk and care free spirit. He balanced her out, and dragged her along to parties and events insuring she wouldn’t go stir-crazy in her dorm room. Of course, in this moment, it made it easier that she might actually have a full conversation with Chuck._

_***_

_Three hours later, Betty and Kevin were ready to go. Betty would have been ready earlier, but Kevin informed her nobody went out before ten, so showing up to a party on time was social suicide. She didn’t understand why anyone would purposefully show up late, but trusted Kevin’s expertise- which also extended to her wardrobe, apparently. Betty had chosen a modest and comfortable outfit—black leggings paired with a sleeveless blouse and booties._

_“Betty, what are you doing? You can’t go to a party dressed in business casual,” he scoffed._

_She glanced down at her outfit, smoothing out a crease on her shirt, “I like it. It’s practical.”_

_“It’s boring, that’s what it is,” Kevin didn’t give Betty a chance to respond before he was throwing clothes from her closet. She didn’t recognize half of the things he had pulled out, clothes with tags still on them, probably impulse buys. Eventually, Kevin settled on a pink lace camisole and a tight, but not too short, black skirt._

_“There.  Now you look party-presentable.” He seemed proud of himself. Betty didn’t look quite like herself, but she wasn’t sure that was a bad thing. If Chuck hadn’t noticed her after the last two and half years, maybe a change of attire would do the trick._

_As the pair pulled up to a long drive way, Betty could hear the music blaring from a large house with white pillars and Greek letters hanging above the door. Betty had never been inside a Fraternity house. She typically avoided them, but a personal invitation by Chuck Clayton called for an exception to her rule._

_Inside, hordes of people covered every inch of the house. Betty was already overwhelmed by the smell of sweaty bodies bumping into each other, spilled luke-warm beer, and an odor she couldn’t quite identify. Paired with the strobing lights and club music, this was Betty’s nightmare._

_“Oh god, Betty. That strong burly drink of a man is eyefucking me right now. Are you going to be okay?”_

_Before she could respond, Kevin was already making his way through the crowd of people. Without her social guide, Betty felt lost, not sure whether to make her way to the kitchen or to find Chuck. She didn’t want to seem desperate, like she just showed up to see Chuck—even though that’s definitely what she did, but she thought waiting around might seem more pathetic._

_Either way, she decided she needed to get to a place where she wasn’t being carelessly shoved around by drunk party goers. Eventually, she landed on a grungy looking yellow couch with water in her plastic cup. Betty wasn’t opposed to drinking, and certainly enjoyed a glass of wine or two, but despite Kevin’s best efforts, she knew he would need a ride home at the end of the night—if he didn’t end up with Mr. Strong and Burly, that was._

_Betty spent at least an hour scrolling through her social media feeds. She usually liked to people-watch, but felt uncomfortable watching anything in this house. The couple on the couch paid no attention to her as they sloppily kissed and groped each other. She had been shoved into the very edge of the couch, and staring at her phone screen seemed like the safest thing to do here. She still hadn’t seen any sign of Kevin (which meant his night was going well) or Chuck, unfortunately. When Kevin said Chuck personally invited them both to his party, Betty took it as a step forward in her one-sided relationship with him, but she had definitely read too much into it. Chuck was probably just being nice, and couldn’t care less if Betty actually showed up to his party._  

_Feeling particularly lousy and exhausted, Betty decided it was time to leave. Kevin was obviously having a good time and didn’t need her. She would go home, get in her pajamas and watch Friends until she knew Kevin was safe at home, and if not his own home, safe at Mr. Strong and Burly’s home._

_Before Betty could pull herself up from the sunken couch, she heard her name._

_“Betty! Cooper! You made it. Ah, shit, I did not think you would show up tonight,” Betty turned her head to see a tall guy with caramel skin and perfectly chocolate colored eyes._

_“Chuck. Hi,” Betty blushed, tucking a loose blond curl behind her ear. Suddenly, Betty wasn’t so tired._

_***_

Betty woke to the smell of fresh coffee. Rubbing her eyes and slowly coming to fruition, she saw her mother standing over her bed with a tray of fresh flowers, a cup of coffee and a plate of pancakes.

“Breakfast, dear?” Alice Cooper’s shrill and cheery voice stung Betty’s ears as she glanced at her clock. It was only 6:00 a.m., which meant it was too early for anyone to be so nauseatingly happy.

“Sure, mom. Thanks,” Betty took the mug and inhaled the warmth, allowing the steam to wake her up.

“Now, the pharmacy opens in an hour, so I thought we go swing by and pick up your prescriptions and then we could do a little bit of shopping, and grab lunch. Your appointment with Dr. Livings is at 1:00 p.m., but after that we could—”

“Mom, I really appreciate all of that, but I thought I might just spend the day at home, and maybe look for a job… You know, since I will be here for a while,” Betty set her coffee down, bracing herself for Alice Cooper’s rage from not getting her way.

Alice took a deep breath and forced a smile, much to Betty’s surprise, “Of course. Of course! Whatever you want, sweetie. But there is no rush in finding a job. You should just take your time feeling better. If you want, you can always have your old position back at The Register.”

The Register, owned and run by the Cooper’s, was Riverdale’s only newspaper. Betty worked at The Register throughout high school. She appreciated the opportunity to gain some experience, but working under her parents wasn’t easy, and she didn’t think it would be a good idea this time around.

“That’s okay, really. I mean, thank you but, no thank you.”

Betty could sense Alice’s disappointment. First, she turned down shopping and now this? She was surprised that Alice hadn’t already lost her cool.

“Of course. Well, why don’t you get dressed, and we will pick up your prescription. Okay?”

“Okay.” Betty smiled at her mom. She didn’t think it was necessary to let her mom know she was a big girl and could go to the pharmacy alone. Besides, it was endearing that her mother was trying hard to be there for her even if it seemed forced and out of character for Alice Cooper. Maternal certainly wasn’t the word that came to Betty’s mind when she thought of her mom.

Alice left her room, closing the door gently behind her. Gathering the strength to climb out of bed, Betty took a deep breath and prepared herself to face the day.

 She turned to face the mirror, scared at what she might see. It had been a long time since Betty truly looked at herself. Two Rivers got rid of all of their mirrors a few years back when a girl broke a mirror to use a shard of glass to cut herself. It was a huge deal, and Two Rivers got in trouble for not providing a safe environment for their clients. While at Two Rivers, the only chance Betty got to see her reflection was when she passed by windows and the sun hit just right.

Slowly, Betty met her gaze in the mirror and tried to hold back tears. Her eyes, usually a vivacious shade of green, were sunken in and muddy looking. Her cheeks were hollow, and her lips chapped. Her skin had barely any color and her hair was lifeless and limp. She had clearly lost weight— she had no appetite the months leading up to her stay at Two Rivers, and once she was there the combination of her medicine and the bland food certainly didn’t help. It was no wonder her parents looked at her like she was a ghost.


End file.
